


Hiding

by almosthopeless



Category: Be More Chill - Iconis/Tracz
Genre: I ship it so quiet pining I guess, Jeremy doesn't know how to function anymore, M/M, Micheal doesn't know how to deal with his feelings, No one knows how to deal with their feelings, Pining if you squint, Recovery
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-18
Updated: 2018-06-18
Packaged: 2019-05-25 00:33:04
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,080
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14965208
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/almosthopeless/pseuds/almosthopeless
Summary: Four times Jeremy kept quiet and one time he didn't.





	Hiding

1\.   
The first time Micheal saw the scars, it was only a month after he got into hospital, and only 1 day and 6 hours after his grounding. In the hospital, he wore long sleeved pyjamas and the lines on his back and down to his arms were like a dirty secret between himself, his father and Dr Lex. During the time he was grounded, Micheal wasn't allowed around (and Jeremy hadn't pressed the issue) but now, he'd promised him he'd come and see him as soon as possible. Apologise. And when Micheal had asked him to stay, he'd agreed, despite his better judgement. He owed Micheal that. He owed Micheal everything. And when he'd taken off his jacket in the basement, he'd thought he'd been safe with his three quarter length t-shirt, but it had ridden up. He’d watched Michael’s eyes widen, pulled the jacket back on, and turned to face Super Mario Galaxy on the Wii. 

2.  
The second time was two months later. Though he'd relaxed around Micheal (almost), that didn't mean he'd relaxed. If school was bad before, being put on a plan and being given a permanent hall pass after having panic attacks in multiple lessons had not improved his social status. Not that he cared. He had friends, and that was enough. But when the substitute gym teacher had insisted that he changed with everyone else, his instinct to obey, obey, obey had driven him to remove his shirt before his mind agreed. It was only chance that Micheal and a few disinterested stragglers were the only ones still in the changing rooms. He'd ignored Micheal’s horrified look at hurried to the hall.

3.  
Jeremy would have told Micheal during a panic attack in the halls of the school, hands over his head and bunched over next to a water fountain, if he could. Micheal wasn't angry anymore. There was nothing to stop him and if only he could tell him he wouldn't have to change in the bathroom every time he slept over. But he could barely breath, let alone explain. And a concerned English trainee teacher had knelt across from him half way through and had refused to leave until the bell. Micheal had a math test, and Jeremy sure wasn't going to keep him behind. Not now he could breathe.

4.  
Six months after the incident, Jeremy and Micheal were with the others. Bowling; Christine had insisted. They would all meet up after what had happened. They were a mismatched group, and the girls only came along sometimes, but Jeremy liked it. There was a level of understanding between them, something he'd never really experienced apart from with Micheal.

Rich wore his scars proudly. Rich’s scars did not reach his arms (he’d told him once that the SQUIP had agreed with him that there was no point scarring there, it would ruin the tank top look) but they stretched far past his knees, and he wasn't scared of wearing shorts. Chloe had spluttered with shock the first time she’d seen them, at Jenna’s house just after Christmas and everyone else had followed her eyes. Except Micheal. Micheal took one appraising glance and walked out the room. He didn't want to see.

The bowling had gone terribly (obviously) but Jeremy had come second to last, beating only Christine (who, it turned out, was truly terrible but she didn't seem to mind). And when they sat afterwards in the cafe, eating normally and without waiting for permission, he'd seemed fine. It was only once they were about to leave, and they were just waiting for Brooke to return from the toilets, that Jeremy turned pale and sprinted outside in the night. Micheal dropped the fry he'd been finishing and followed him, Rich not far behind. He'd been expecting - well, he wasn't sure what he'd been expecting - but not Jeremy grasping onto the rail and vomiting onto the floor below.   
“Hot.” Jeremy had gasped breathlessly once he was finished, and Micheal had touched his hand to his forehead. 

“You’re sick,” Micheal had said. His voice had come out flat, and he wasn't sure why. But Jeremy had ignored him and tugged at his cardigan, his eyes glassy and his skin pale under the lights of the bowling alley. Micheal watched him remove it and trying to ignore what he knew lay underneath but as they walked silently to his car he and Rich had stood behind him, providing a cover. The girls didn't need to know. Jeremy hadn't wanted them to know.

 

5.  
“Micheal.” The darkened room had been silent for almost an hour, and Micheal jumped when he heard his name. It was only when Jeremy did something like this, starting a conversation, that Micheal realised that he didn't do stuff like this anymore. 

“Yeah? You okay?” It was the middle of the night, and his voice was unexpectedly harsh.

“Do you want to talk?”

This was another jolt, hitting Micheal somewhere in his stomach. He didn't know why. 

“Sure,” his tone was as light as he could make it. “What’s wrong?”

“Its not - its not that something is wrong. I just want to tell you about - about my - about what the SQUIP would - about my scars.”

Theres a pause, and Micheal’s breath hitches. He had almost given up on ever hearing why. Why Jeremy was covered in bright white lines all the way up arms and down his back. Why Micheal would walk into rooms and just see Jeremy standing there, arms hanging uselessly, staring into space.

“I’m glad that you want to tell me, Jeremy. Don't feel any pressure,” Micheal had finally managed to get the words out, words that felt bitter in his throat. He didn't know if he wanted to know. But he knew that Jeremy wanted to tell him.

And Jeremy had told him, his voice hoarse and stuttering over certain words, each sentence changing direction too many times. And Micheal understood. He understood why Jeremy sat straighter now, why his handwriting had become neater and smaller, why he woke before Micheal every time he slept over. He understood why being touched sent Jeremy into mania sometimes, why not being touched was sometimes worse. He understood why Jeremy waited for permission before doing something - anything - especially around non-Micheal people. And he understood why his back was a circuit board of pale, pale scars.

Michael hadn't asked, but Jeremy had told. And Micheal knew that everything would be okay.


End file.
